


Common Sense

by sarcasticallyspidey



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticallyspidey/pseuds/sarcasticallyspidey
Summary: Just because I had spider sense, didn't mean I had common sense.
Kudos: 13





	Common Sense

"You okay there, Spider-man?"

I was most definitely, one-hundred-and-ten percent not okay, but it was nice of him to ask. 

A mere foot from me stood Captain Freaking America - who, I'd wager, had much better things to do than save Spandex-clad, teenage vigilantes from cats stuck in trees - and yet here he was, in all his star-spangled and self-righteous glory. (Sans the red, white, and blue uniform, which I noted with a tiny hint of disappointment. Today, Mr. Rogers wore normal street clothes and yet, he still managed to make jeans and a hoodie look badass.) 

Was I supposed to salute? Ask him to autograph my collector’s edition, mint condition Captain America shield? Wait, no - he was a bad guy now, the government had called him a 'fugitive of the law,' and all that. That meant I should probably report him or do something at least - but I wasn't sure what that something was; I didn't even know how the Accords really worked. 

So, I settled for the easiest option: do absolutely nothing and pray that my inaction wouldn't be seen as aiding and abetting a war-criminal. 

In order to carry out my ingenious plan of doing nothing, however, I'd probably need to move first. I was kind of laying on the ground, in the same position I'd in been for the past ten minutes or so. And it was all that damn cat's fault.

That was, in all honestly, a bit of a stretch. I should've noticed a cat was already occupying it's chosen spot in the tree before I landed - and hey, maybe I shouldn't have let go when said feline jumped out at me. (But as I told Aunt May: just because I had spider sense, didn't mean I had common sense.)

Speaking of common sense, I think I was asked a question. Realization suddenly dawned upon me that the Captain was still waiting for his answer patiently, and with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

So, mustering every ounce of the genius kid-prodigy that I knew had to be hiding somewhere inside of me, I croaked out: "Cat. Tree." 

Captain America's eyebrows quirked into a curious expression at my absolute eloquence. Following the path of my outstretched arm, he said, "I see," with a small chuckle.

The Captain paused for a moment, as if considering his next words. I took the time to familiarize myself with the clouds forming overhead and distract myself from the utter humiliation of this situation.

"Do you... want some help?"

I waved him off. "Nono. Thank you, Mr. Captain America, sir."  
"It's just Steve, kid," he said. And there was that laugh again.

With a huff (which was supposed to mean 'Don't laugh at me,' but could probably be interpreted as a noise of general annoyance), I picked myself off the wet grass and stood. After flicking a green bug off of my shoulder, my eyes adjusted to the suddenly less patriotic scene before me. Captain America wasn't there.

Instead, in what had felt like a mere second, the Captain had scaled himself up the old, tangled roots of the tree and into its leafy green branches. Thankfully, and perhaps by some miracle, the branches closest to Cap were all thick and sturdy and held his muscled frame immensely well, saving the both of us from a weird, backwards version of déjà vu. 

"Uh... Captain? Sir?" I called out, confused (and still mildly embarrassed).

He turned, the cat's furry little body cradled under one arm, and gave me a thumbs up with the other. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Captain Rogers was showing off with how easily he scaled down the tree trunk - only took him a few seconds and he wasn't even sweating. Jesus, what a guy.

He held the cat out to me. "You wanna take her?"

And what was I gonna do, say no to Captain America himself? At least I liked cats - Mr. Delmar had one, and Murph was nice enough. I took care of him for a week once, when Mr. Delmar and his daughter went vacationing in Florida. Aunt May liked Murphy too.

"Yeah, okay. Sure," I said, and I barely had time to regret my decision before the cat was shoved into my waiting arms.  
The Captain smiled then. The corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes crinkled - the full nine yards. 

Here, in the setting sun, Steve Rogers was in stark contrast to the man whose shield I stole in Germany, the man recorded and played over and over for school demonstrations. He looked so real here. 

And suddenly, I had to wonder what made the whole of America turn on such a good man. Not that I hadn't wondered before - I'd asked so much, in fact, that Mr. Stark made up a new rule: No talking about the ex-Avengers. I probably would've broken that rule every single day (maybe twice on Tuesdays), if it weren't for the broken, lost look in my mentor's eyes every time I brought up the Captain.  
I wanted to know, but it just wasn't my place.

Captain Rogers phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket, shooting me an apologetic look in the process. The so-far-unnamed cat snuggled further into my arms and gave out the cutest meow ever, and I practically melted on the spot.

"Sorry, Spiderman. Duty calls," Cap said. (Just like in the movies! Man, was this so cool.)

"Ah, y-yeah. Me too. I should probably get to it swinging around and saving the day, you know," I replied, struggling to sound half as cool as Cap. 

The Captain gave a final wave and turned to answer his phone. I watched his retreating form for a moment, before turning my attention to the squirming ball of fur in my arms.  
She was definitely cute. Cuter than 'cute' - she was adorable. Shades of muted orange and brown covered much of her fur - save for a pink nose, white belly, and what looked like four little white socks on her feet. 

"Aw, you're not so bad," I said to her. (She was, of course, asleep - but it wasn't like she could respond anyway.)

"Maybe I'll name you Leia, you know, after Princess Leia. She's pretty badass - like you were in the tree earlier."

I chuckled softly, scratching her behind the ears with one hand and supporting her small body with the other. "Let's not have a repeat of that, though."

In the time I spent chatting with Captain Rogers, the sky above had changed to a deep blue, still mottled with grey clouds, and I began to feel a slight pitter-patter of raindrops against my shoulders. Then sprinkles became fat, angry droplets. Lightning struck nearby. Leia let out a mew of protest, startled awake by a drop of water that fell and ran along the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, baby," I cooed, shaking despite myself. The rain sent feverish shivers down my back at every droplet.

I rubbed a comforting hand across her forehead as another strike of lighting touched down somewhere close. The sky lit up briefly in a flash of bright white; Leia's ears twitched at every clap of accompanying thunder. 

"Peter," Karen began at the same time as thunder rang through the air, as loud as crashing symbols. I flinched at the noise. "I would strongly advise you to go indoors at this time. Several hazardous weather alerts have been sent out to Queens residents - if you stay, it may not be safe." 

"Ah, thanks, Karen," I said, my mind already wandering to the route home, and how I probably shouldn't risk web-slinging home with a terrified cat bundled under one arm. 

"May I also remind you that today is Thursday."

"Wha-" I began saying, and then I remembered. (I wouldn't be surprised if a cartoon lightbulb appeared above my head.)

"Mr. Stark will be expecting you at the Avengers Tower. Actually, I believe he was expecting you 34 minutes ago," Karen elaborated, her words echoing my own thoughts. 

Sometime after Mr. Stark found out about my run-in with Toomes, SI repurchased the Avengers Tower, with no comment to the press. It was a complete and utter coincidence, so he said. (Miss Potts and I, however, had another theory.) 

And it was Thursday. A day (along with Sunday) that was usually spent tinkering around in Mr. Stark's lab, upgrading the spidersuit, that kind of thing. But it had recently evolved into the two of us watching movie-marathons until Aunt May practically had to drag me home herself ("On a school night, no less!"), or having in-depth discussions about the mechanics of the Tardis and if we could possibly build one (the answer was a resounding no).

Aunt May joked that it was like a joint-custody agreement. Neither of us had corrected her.

"Oh, shit," I said. "Karen, tell Mr. Stark I'll be running a little late. But - but I'm not dead or anything. I'm good."

"Message sent."

"Okay, thanks."

Minutes had passed and yet it was still pouring, I was still shivering like a rabid chihuahua and clutching an equally drenched Leia to my chest. Another lovely addition, thanks to the spiderbite - I can't thermoregulate anymore. Three cheers for me and my bad luck.

I figured it was probably not a good idea to go web-slinging at this particular moment, with an already scared kitten in my arms and a thunderstorm overhead, so that meant I had to walk the long trek to Mr. Stark's tower. I groaned at the mere thought and started walking.

It took around twenty minutes or less. By then, I wasn't even shivering anymore - it was more like all the cells in my body were vibrating in a frigid frenzy, chattering in the cold, drenched mass that was once my body. 

I barely remember trudging through the lobby and into the elevator, I don't even remember talking to the receptionist, but I must have made it somehow, because suddenly I found myself on the receiving end of one of Mr. Stark's 'looks' and there I was, wondering what I did to deserve such a thing. But Leia was still cradled safely in my arms, so I could rest. 

"Kid!" Mr. Stark's called, his worried face filling my field of vision. I wanted to tell him to shhh, but that would've been rude.

"Oh, heyyyy," I said instead.

"Fri, connect to Karen. What's wrong with him?" 

"Peter is currently experiencing hypothermia due to prolonged exposure to the rain outside," came the UI's response. I scoffed. Mr. Stark looked increasingly more concerned.

"Jesus Christ, Pete," he huffed, slipping an arm around me and guiding me to the nearest couch. "Fri, adjust the temperature on this floor - the hottest you can make it without cooking us alive."

"On it, boss."

"Wha? Nooooo," I pouted. "Its already hot in here."

I'm not sure at which point the room became uncomfortingly, blistering hot, but it was, and I really wanted to take my suit off. I figured I couldn't do that with Leia in my arms, so I settled on taking off my mask instead.

"Yeeeeesssss," Mr. Stark responded. "And it's not hot. That's the hypothermia talking, kiddo."

I made a noise that sounded like "pfft," and Mr. Stark left the room. He returned, what felt like a century later, with a pile of blankets tucked under one arm and mug of something that smelled earthy in the other hand.

"T'ny, I don't drink tea," I said, sounding not unlike a toddler whining about vegetables.

"Well, you're about to," he said, his tone harsh but not unkind.

Tony lifted Leia from my arms and covered me instead in a bundle of fuzzy white blankets - I felt like a polar bear, or the Michelin Man, or maybe even the Pillsbury Doughboy. It was so comfortable here, so plush and warm, I could almost fall asleep. 

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but where the hell did you get a cat from?" Mr. Stark asked quietly, as he returned Leia to my lap. 

I smiled a dopey smile then. "Mmmm. Oh, y'know, Captain America."

Tony stiffened for a second, but sighed and shook his head, muttering "Of course you did," with a small smile on his face.

"Her n'mes Leia," I continued.

"That's cute," Tony murmured. "You wanna sleep, Pete? It's okay, you're gonna be just fine."

"No thanks," I said, but I found myself drifting off anyway. My eyelids felt like lead, and I was wandering into the clutches of sleep, but I could still hear Tony talk.

"Pete - I love you, kid, but you're gonna make me go grey prematurely. It's not gonna be life or death every time you come over, is it?" 

"Eh, who am I kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world," he said, and I could just tell he was smiling.

Tony reached out a hand to ruffle my hair, Leia purred quietly on my lap, and I fell soundly asleep.


End file.
